


Lonely Orchestra

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stan draws poetic parallels in the dead of night over a bottle of whiskey. Set pre-canon, about two years before the twins come to visit.





	Lonely Orchestra

**Author's Note:**

> Wow it's so short!

He shrieked, sat bolt upright in bed, and waited, sweaty hands clutching the sheets, until the phantom pain faded from his shoulder. Even now he could smell burning flesh, hear the sizzling of the symbol branding itself to his shoulder, feel the boot against his chest and the fiery heat. He panted, his breath entering and leaving his lungs raggedly. He tried to slow it down, to steady it, to prevent hyperventilation.

He didn’t succeed.

Clumsily, he swung his legs out from under his sheets and stands. He needed a drink, and maybe a smoke. Something, anything, to calm his nerves and still his trembling hands.

Perhaps it was him, but the way to the kitchen seemed longer than he remembered. His footsteps were unsteady as he finally, finally reached the cabinet with the strong stuff. Disregarding labels, he grabbed a bottle and popped it open, taking a swig as he headed for the back porch. Maybe some fresh air would help.

As he swung the screen open, the cool fresh air hit him in the face. He took a deep breath of it and sat himself on the couch, taking occasional drinks of his whiskey as his heaving chest gradually slowed.

A single cricket chirped; a lonely orchestra playing a quiet midnight show. It reminded him of his own one-man band: just a guy, a hunk of metal, and a book.

He chuckled to himself. What strange and poetic parallels one could draw in the dead of night from a nightmare, a bottle of whiskey, and a cricket.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos and comments below if you enjoyed this!


End file.
